


Dear Pianist

by mongaygay



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: M/M, jooheon is cheesy, language issues, they don't sleep, they talk about death, theyre sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2019-05-05 04:19:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14609160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mongaygay/pseuds/mongaygay
Summary: “Dear Pianist,It’s nice that you play such amazing music for us everyday— it really is very beautiful! But could you maybe not do that past 2am?We can all hear it.Love,Appreciative and sleepy neighbour”---- Jooheon searches for a melody but finds Minhyuk instead





	Dear Pianist

**Author's Note:**

  * For [j9h4](https://archiveofourown.org/users/j9h4/gifts).



> (HI PAT I know I said I wouldn't write this anymore but I thought I should give you a surprise!!)
> 
> My friend got a letter on her door and I thought "Dear Pianist" had a nice ring to it <3

_“Dear Pianist,_

 

_It’s nice that you play such amazing music for us everyday— it really is very beautiful! But could you maybe not do that past 2am?_

 

_We can all hear it._

 

_Love,_

_Appreciative and sleepy neighbour”_

 

Jooheon stares in disbelief at the note he found pasted on his door in the morning. _Oops. The walls really are so thin_ , he thinks. Why now? He’s been playing the piano late at night _(morning?)_ almost every night for 4 years since he had moved into the cheap apartment near the campus, and this was the first complaint he was hearing of. Most people who lived in this building were all burnt out college students who had no tangible sleep schedules, so most of them didn’t have an issue with his late night piano key-smashing. He’s a music major who specialises in song composition and everyone knew the strange piano rambling _(beautiful? please)_ would soon become a work of art, so there really isn’t anything to be mad about. Guess the new guy will just have to get used to it. Jooheon shrugs it off quite literally but he can’t actually shake the thought from his mind. Who did he piss off…

 

He’s still thinking of it when he hurries into the lecture theatre only to realise he was half an hour early. He had been so thrown off by that note (a notorious people-pleaser) and had walked into lecture in the clothes he had woken up in after walking out right after unlocking the door. He hadn’t even brought anything. _Thank god the lecturer is chill_ , he thinks, walking to his usual seat in shame. The lecture theatre sure looks different when it’s empty and this is the first time Jooheon’s been around to appreciate how the chairs look without their respective owners marking them. _When your life is this much of a mess, you learn to appreciate the little things I guess._

 

He’s _not_ alone, but he only realises after gaping around the room like an idiot, hands running along the backs of lecture seats, staring around as if he’d never been blessed the sight of a pathetic lecture theatre before. He sees top-of-the-cohort Yoo Kihyun giving him a bemused smile, sitting quietly at the edge of the lecture theatre. Of _course_ Yoo Kihyun is early. Jooheon heaves a huge sigh (it sounds more like a groan) and drops into a puddle in his seat. _What a terrible day_. He reaches to pull his notebook out of his bag before remembering he didn’t bring his bag and is so embarrassed he wants to hide behind the neck of his hoodie before he remembers he isn’t wearing one. He said his “What a terrible day” too soon.

 

The lecture ended too soon, and before he knows it Jooheon has to get up and walk out in front of everyone in the clothes he had woken up in without a single piece of paper and just one (1) pen. (Kihyun had slipped him a pen halfway through the lecture with a quiet snort and a pitying smile. Jooheon had almost died in embarrassment.) Lecture had been hell. He’d barely been able to keep his eyes open and he had kept on waking up with the end of poor Kihyun’s pen in his mouth. And still in the moments when he was awake he hadn’t been able to focus on the lecture, the note from this morning still steel-gripping onto his attention. Note… sleep. Note… sleep. Note. Note. Jooheon hurries out of the lecture theatre, legs rigid and head spinning, fingers nervously pressing imaginary piano keys in staccato motion some poor unfortunate song that would never come to be.

 

He meets his roommate Shownu outside and doesn’t even spare some time to wonder why he was there. (Shownu usually doesn’t venture to this side of the campus, and it’s a little optimistic to think he might have come for him.) He also doesn’t spare any worry for the awkward smile he’s given. (Shownu’s always awkward anyway.) He’s just so happy for the first friendly face since he woke up. _Looks like my series of unfortunate events is coming to a close_ , he thinks, stepping into a mud patch. _Seems about right_. He slides his arm through Shownu’s and yanks himself out and finally his bad luck seems to end. They walk together with Jooheon lagging slightly behind and Jooheon thinks Shownu might be telling him something but his poor one-track mind can’t hear a thing.

 

“Shownu hyung.”

 

Shownu stops mid-sentence (so he _was_ talking!) and looks back at him. Jooheon quickens his pace and catches up with him, and says seriously, “Does my piano playing disturb you?” If Shownu is confused, he doesn’t show any change in expression. (His high eyebrows already give him the look of being perpetually perplexed so there really isn’t much to change.) He shakes his head, and Jooheon sighs in relief.

 

“Nothing disturbs me when I’m sleepy. You’d know.”

  
Ever the rock, Shownu. Jooheon pushes him away playfully and laughs as they head off together. (From the corner of his eye he sees Yoo Kihyun sitting outside the lecture theatre as if he’s waiting for someone. Hmm.)

 

When he tells Shownu about the note he had found, Shownu frowns seriously and tells him maybe he should listen. Trust Shownu to take an anonymous stranger’s side.

 

“We have a good rent here, Heonnie. Let’s not piss the neighbours off. The food places around here are really good.”

 

Jooheon puts on his best mimicry of Shownu’s serious, contemplative expression and nods as he walks off in a different direction, waving goodbye. (His other hand has begun pressing keys onto his thigh again and he tsks at the nonsense melody that his fingers adamantly want to play.)

 

He doesn’t see Shownu heading back in the direction they had come from and he also doesn’t realise he was still holding Kihyun’s pen. _Tragic_.

 

-

 

He hasn’t played in the middle of the night in four whole days, and he is trying to be considerate, he really is, but some things can’t be helped. Jooheon sits on the couch as he pulls his hands back from where they keep reaching for the piano. _In this dog-eats-dog world even my hands won’t submit to me_ , he laments.

 

The schoolwork isn’t the issue— he’s completely fine with doing that on his computer and in the campus studio. And schoolwork doesn’t give him heart palpitations and doesn’t cause droplets of sweat to trickle side by side down his neck as if they were having a race. It doesn’t make him sit restless at 3am and wonder why music itself was unhappy with him. He doesn’t have to prove anything to anyone at his school. No, it’s not school.

 

His phone rings (Caller ID: Mom).

 

Now _that’s_ the issue.

 

His mother had called him the previous week to tell him in a too-chipper tone that she’d be paying him a visit in school! He hadn’t seen her since his last term break when he’d gone back to Seoul with his friends for a few days, and even then he’d avoided her like the plague.

 

They had been so, so close when he had been growing up. He had been small and good and Korean and he’d sing her songs she taught him and then he’d sing her songs he made up for her and she’d laugh and smile and clutch her heart. Then his parents with their big hopes and their too-small wallets had sent him to America to give him the “best American schooling” and then his English far surpassed theirs and his tongue grew into place without their guidance, right and correct around the foreign words (foreign to them, but to Jooheon they were home) and confused and sad around Korean. And then he was taller and more rebellious and American and maybe he didn’t always pick up the phone anymore but that’s because he’s scared of the long silences when neither of them can find the words for the sadness they felt and then the line hanging head. And then he was further away and smiled less and she didn’t always laugh when he showed her a song he wrote, then less often, then rarely a smile.

 

The issue is that he _really_ wants to make her smile. He _has_ to. There would be no point to anything he does if she won’t smile at his music again.

 

He has to show her something beautiful and melodic and _Korean_ … and he has no idea how to do that.

 

He pulls the cover off of the piano and plays until morning.

 

(He barely gets sleep, and when it does it’s overwhelmed with disjointed chords and imperfect melodies and his mother’s eternal, unsmiling face.)

-

 

He wakes up to another note stuck on his door.

 

“ _Dear Pianist,_

 

 _You only waited_ _four days_ _to disturb me again._

 

 _Please just spare me the noise._ ”

 

Oh no. Jooheon wants to feel sorry, but he can’t help the annoyance that bubbles up in his chest. Who _is_ this guy? NOISE? Jooheon has gone four years without receiving a single complaint about his late night piano smashing and yet here he is with two complaints from the same guy in 5 days. Okay.

 

He rips the scrap piece of paper off of his door and examines it as if his stare would scare it into a confession. Nothing. Okay. He makes to throw it away when he sees something scribbled onto the back of the paper.

 

“Call me <3” and a number.

 

Huh?

 

Jooheon feels his anger evaporate as a smile creeps onto his lips, tugging at the sides of his cheeks. Oh my. He hasn’t dated anyone since high school and he’s not sure whether it’s by choice or not, not having been able to get close enough and comfortable enough with anyone to date them and not being cute enough to randomly get picked up by a hot stranger. Oh my. He looks at the note again. It really is _right_ there— his sleepy neighbour gave him his number.

 

Jooheon ducks back into his house before his other less flirty neighbours see him smiling like an idiot at the door. _Who are you_ , he wonders as he looks at the paper. His fingers shake where they grip the scrap and he leans against the wall to hold his balance. He feels giddy like he hasn’t felt in a while.

 

_Better call I guess._

 

He begins keying the numbers onto his phone, heart skipping like rocks in his chest.

 

_Here goes nothing._

 

“Hello?”

 

Jooheon almost forgets to reply. His voice breaks out of his throat in a strangled laugh and he rests his other hand on the wall as if it could give him support. So it’s a guy. Nice. He sounds familiar.

 

“I’m Jooheon? You gave me your number? Piano man?”

 

Long pause. Jooheon bites his lip so hard it’s almost like he plans to eat it, and waits for the response.

 

“Lee Jooheon from the 12pm lecture on Tuesdays?”

 

Huh?

 

“I don’t remember giving you my number.”

 

Jooheon has never hang up so fast. Oh god. Oh god oh god oh god oh god… That was Yoo Kihyun, wasn’t it? This is the second time he’s embarrassed himself in front of Yoo Kihyun in two days and the only improvement is that right now at least he has a hoodie to melt into.

 

Every other bit about this second embarrassment was significantly worse. To start off, it was the _second_ embarrassment, not to mention the fact that _he_ had called Yoo Kihyun, meaning he had invited this embarrassment. Couldn’t he have checked beforehand? Why the hell is Yoo Kihyun’s number on his door anyway?

 

He wants to die.

 

-

 

In the afternoon when Shownu comes home at last Jooheon is sitting in front of the piano wondering why his fingers didn’t seem to want to make good music. (Just moments ago he had still been passed out on the couch lamenting the faults of his life.) But Shownu isn’t alone.

 

Jooheon really wants to die.

 

Yoo Kihyun sits down beside him and begins pressing keys smooth and soft and gentle and Jooheon really really wants to die. Why the hell is Yoo Kihyun in his house?

 

“Ki told me about your misunderstanding,” Shownu said over the melody Kihyun played that bounced around the walls of the apartment as if it had never met good music before. (It hasn’t.)   _Ki?_ Jooheon keeps his head down and suddenly the way his shoelaces have browned over the past few months is very interesting. He doesn’t realise he’s been pressing down on the C key for several minutes. Terrible.

 

Turns out Kihyun is Shownu’s… boyfriend? Jooheon thinks back to not wondering why Shownu came to get him and lecture. _Oh my god I’m so dumb._ Can he go any deeper into his hoodie? The scrap piece of paper had been part of a cheesy love letter to their other boyfriend ( _I’m_ so _dumb_ ) from before they were together. He hides his face in his hands and hears a strangled half scream that might be his.

 

The only piece of good (maybe just neutral) news is that the other boyfriend must have been who sent him the note, so at least he’s found Sleepy Neighbour.

 

-

 

That night he packs an apology care package for Sleepy Neighbour who has been identified by Shownu and Kihyun as one Mr Lee Hoseok. Nice. His life is back on track. He all but skips down the stairs (the lift is out of order but his life isn’t!) and heads towards the flat right under his.

 

The door is opened by a Korean boy in pajamas who doesn’t look like he’s expecting anyone. His hair is tousled and the bit of the apartment visible behind him is… kind of a mess. But he’s cute, for lack of a better word, and he’s right in front of Jooheon and it’s all Jooheon can do to remind himself that this is Shownu’s _boyfriend_ , for god’s sake. _Obviously_ not up for grabs.

 

“Hoseok?”

 

The boy looks confused. Not Hoseok? (Up for grabs?) Jooheon continues standing at the door with his hands outstretched, handing over the box of gifts. The boy scrutinises him for a while, his eyes travelling up and down and his lips unsmiling. Jooheon can’t help but notice how he blinks so carefully like it’s the most important task in the world.

 

“Hoseok’s out. Is that food?”

 

Not-Hoseok replied in Korean. Okay. Jooheon nods and pushes the box into not-Hoseok’s hands, mumbling out a billingual explanation about the notes on the door and the piano. He wishes the other boy would smile, or at least stop the half-scowl. It’s almost terrifying. (Is he even making sense? He hasn’t spoken Korean in years.)

 

“Oh… That was me. I’m Minhyuk.” Still Korean.

 

Oh. No wonder he (Minhyuk?) was sulking at him. So it wasn’t Shownu’s boyfriend he pissed off but his roommate instead. Jooheon swings the metal gate of the house back and forth subconsciously, looking anywhere but at Minhyuk’s annoyed, gorgeous face. Minhyuk stares down at the box for the longest time and Jooheon is all too aware of how he had definitely filled it up with things Shownu and Kihyun said Hoseok would like. (He still doesn’t dare to make eye contact with Minhyuk.)

 

“Thanks.”

 

The door closes in Jooheon’s face. Rude. But even in those few seconds of avoiding his gaze, Jooheon has noticed how tired Minhyuk looks, panda-eyed and pale like no one that cute should be. He thinks back to the horrendous piano playing from the night before and feels a twinge of guilt. _I deserve this._

 

Only as he turns to leave he realises he’s been playing songs on his legs again and shakes his hands out as if that would stop them.

 

(The stairs back up to his flat seem a lot more daunting the second time around and later that night he dreams of broken concert halls and jammed piano keys and frustration and the unease of communication in his mother tongue that he’s long lost.)

 

-

 

Jooheon hates nightmares, and they love him, so he hates sleep. Plus, inspiration always strikes in the middle of the night anyway, in nightmarish tones that he tunes into melodies, in garish colours that he plays into silence. Now that he’s resolved to no longer disturb his neighbour, he can’t play the piano at night either, so he had tried to sleep. No go. Nightmares, off the bat. He had woken up in a cold sweat and has been unable to sleep since.

 

But just _what_ is that sound?

 

He keeps hearing beeping sounds coming from somewhere but he can’t place where, and it’s not like he’s planning to sleep but he wants to stay awake in peace. He had just barely managed to stop himself from following the beat of the beep to produce some imaginary ghastly melody on the folds of his bed. He’s been hearing it for days now and it’s pissing him off. And it’s not just about him either. He thinks back to Minhyuk’s tired face and feels a strange sense of protectiveness.

 

Beep, beep.

 

Ugh.

 

 _Time to have an adventure, I guess_. He drags himself out of bed and walks out of the house, fingers dragging along the piano longingly before he makes it to the door. Every flat on his floor seem relatively quiet so the culprit doesn’t seem to be there. Jooheon stands in front of the staircase trying to decide between up or down.

 

Up is a bust— completely quiet.

 

So the asshole making noise and keeping Minhyuk up is on his floor! Too close… Poor Minhyuk. He sprints down and hears the beeping getting louder, so close by. He follows the sound and tries all 3 doors neighbouring Minhyuk’s flat.

 

Nope, nope, nope. Which only leaves…

 

He knocks on Minhyuk’s door again, although it’s 2.46 am, because that beeping sound is definitely coming from his flat, and it’s louder now— the sound of video games. Maybe Hoseok’s a regular gamer? Poor Minhyuk.

 

But it’s Minhyuk who opens the door holding a chocolate ice cream from Jooheon’s apology box as well as a gaming console in one hand. The room behind him is dark and Jooheon can see the game freezed in pause, lighting up the room in shades of neon and white. _Sleeping, my foot_ , Jooheon thinks.

 

_And he’s eating the ice cream I bought for him._

 

Ugh.

 

“Why would you tell me to stop playing at night if you don’t even sleep?” He tried to speak Korean but it comes out as English, and he tries to keep his voice calm and level but it comes out snappy and accusatory. He sees Minhyuk’s expression shift.

 

“I didn’t realise what I did at night had anything to do with you.” Minhyuk’s stare kind of scares him, and his icy tone too, but Jooheon stands his indignant ground. (And by now he’s starting to realise maybe Minhyuk could understand English but not speak it, like how Jooheon was with Korean, except it seems more justified on Minhyuk’s part.)

 

“You’re disturbing everyone!”

 

“So were you!”

 

“Then why did you ask _me_ to stop? How are we any different?” Jooheon pushes the door back before Minhyuk can slam it into his face again, and sees him click his teeth and sigh like Jooheon was a bug that wouldn’t get off his food.

 

Minhyuk looks up like he has just decided on something, and with all the cruelty that happens at 3am, he says, “You’re right. How are we any different? A crazy guy slamming piano keys at night and a pathetic good-for-nothing gaming at night? It’s all noise, Jooheon.” Then he exerts all his force into a last push and manages to close the door on Jooheon, but not before sticking his tongue out at him like a triumphant 8-year-old. What the fuck?

 

Jooheon storms back home and plays angry discordant harmonies until morning. Stupid Minhyuk, stupid Minhyuk, stupid. His fingers hurt after all the smashing and the strange staccatos that didn’t seem to fit anywhere but he doesn’t stop playing.

 

At 6am, he’s passed out on the piano, head lolling backward and forward on the keys. He almost doesn’t hear the bell ring. At the fourth ring he rolls off the chair and practically crawls towards the door. He’s so so tired. Did Shownu go out last night? He should have the key.

 

Another cute Korean stranger is on the other side of the door. _This_ must be Hoseok. And what does Hoseok want? Jooheon stares at him with his mouth hanging open and his heavy eyebags that seem to drag his whole head down with them. Hoseok furrows his brows at him and gives him an apologetic smile, checking his watch as if he just realised what time it was. Jooheon notices he’s in sportswear and covered in sweat, as if he’s been up since earlier running or something and had just dropped by. He makes a mental note to ask Shownu if this is really who he wants to be with.

 

“Hi, I’m Hoseok, from downstairs?” (Not in Korean, thank God.) He holds out a hand that the too-sleepy Jooheon doesn’t take, and then enters the house, stepping past Jooheon. Jooheon’s almost annoyed until he remembers that this is Shownu’s _boyfriend_ , and that he has every right to be coming into his house. But Hoseok doesn’t head towards Shownu’s room and just sits on the couch instead, looking up at Jooheon expectantly. (He sits with his legs pressed together and his knees raised and his shoulders raised and Jooheon kind of wants to pat him on the head because he kind of looks like a child, but that’s an issue for another time.)

 

Jooheon sits in front of him hesitantly and Wonho looks up and smiles at him, then starts, “I heard you and Minhyukkie had a fight.” Jooheon notices the dimple on his one cheek and appreciates it on Shownu’s behalf. Why has Shownu never brought him around? Instead he brought fucking Yoo Kihyun.

 

“We didn’t. I told him he was bad and he said I was bad and then he stuck out his tongue at me.” _Oh my god I’m so dumb_. Jooheon can’t seem to break this awkward eye contact situation he’s having with Hoseok, who won’t look away. He nods at Jooheon as if he had said something mature and logical and not completely childish and whiny and Jooheon wants nothing less than death.

 

“Minhyukkie can be… rough around the edges. I’m sure you know already.”

 

Jooheon nods too enthusiastically, too immediately, and he almost sees a glint of protective anger in Hoseok’s eye. It’s not like Jooheon had missed the love in his voice whenever he said Minhyuk’s name, but Jooheon also can’t help the retained anger from the day before.

 

“He’s trying to be better. I know that for a fact. The thing is,” Hoseok finally seems to blink, but the eye contact only seems to tighten, “he doesn’t sleep, ever.”

 

Ever?

 

Hoseok nods at him as if Jooheon had asked that dumb question out loud, then continues, “He hates it. Sleep, I mean. I make his bed everyday but he never sleeps in it. Even when he climbs into my bed I never see him relax. I mean, he does fall asleep at some point, but I feel like he hates himself for it.” Jooheon feels that, deep in heart where sympathy and his hate for sleep lay, he feels it. _Why don’t you sleep?_ He wonders _, what are you so scared of?_

 

“But this morning, I woke up to find him sleeping. And he looked more rested than he’s been in a while. And he let me put a blanket over him and _continued_ sleeping.”

 

Huh. Jooheon doesn’t know how to respond, and he’s not so sure what Hoseok’s trying to say.

 

Hoseok continues to tell him about how Minhyuk had moved into his flat just a few weeks ago because he “couldn’t take it in Korea anymore, not after what happened”. Apparently Minhyuk is the type to talk a lot but when he doesn’t say something, it means you shouldn’t ask. And Hoseok didn’t ask. He just took care of him. Jooheon wonders if that’s just the effect Minhyuk has on people.

 

“I think he likes your music. It helps him sleep. And I think it pisses him off, so I came to apologize on his behalf. Keep playing-- he needs it, even if he doesn’t want to admit it. That’s… That’s all I came to tell you.”

 

Wonho shows himself out the door.

 

-

 

Minhyuk comes up to his house later that night, armed with a care package of his own. When Jooheon opens the door (he has half a mind to slam it) Minhyuk just stands there unsmiling, holding the box out as if that’s all he came to do. Jooheon reaches out for it and their hands brush and he almost falls backwards.

 

“Sorry for yelling at you.” _Oh my god I hate myself._ Jooheon wonders why his body parts keep betraying him. He makes another mental note to cut off every traitor when he’s free enough to do so.

 

Then Minhyuk smiles at him and Jooheon thinks maybe everything he’s ever done in his life leading up to this moment has been worth it, because he looks like a new person and Jooheon is maybe a little in love with both versions of him. _What? Shut up._ Now he has to add his brain to the list of traitors. He grants Minhyuk an awkward smile back and makes a kind of hand flapping motion to invite him in, and he doesn’t really look like he wants to but he comes in anyway.

 

Minhyuk sits down comfortably and Jooheon can’t help but notice how Minhyuk seems so settled into everything he does that it never looks like he’s made to do anything else. He sits across from him and they sit in silence for a couple of minutes.

 

“I’m really sorry. Your music isn’t noise. And you’re nice. Thank you.”

 

Jooheon notices he’s fidgeting, running his thumb repeatedly over the pads of his other fingers, and he also notices how long and soft they look.

 

“And sorry about Hoseok. He can be so extra sometimes. He really didn’t have to come up here.”

 

Jooheon kind of wants to hold his hand.

 

(His fingers move towards Minhyuk and for once he doesn’t feel betrayed. Why is he being so forgiving?)

 

Oh wait, talking. Jooheon tries to gather up the Korean to reply to him, but thinks maybe Minhyuk doesn’t mind, not like his mother did, at least.

He shakes his head reassuringly, and then in English, “Oh no he was really sweet. He likes you a lot.” Minhyuk laughs, “He’s just too anxious. I’m not ever gonna die but he sure thinks I am at any moment.” Jooheon laughs too, then starts, turns back to Minhyuk.

 

“You’re not _ever_ gonna die?”

 

(He says this in Korean, and might have been proud of himself if he wasn’t so dumbfounded by Minhyuk’s comment and if he hadn’t just repeated everything Minhyuk said.)

 

Minhyuk looks up and he isn’t smiling but it’s a much happier scowl than he’d ever given Jooheon and then they laugh together. Minhyuk laughs like a river flowing behind a dam, strong and energetic and ends off like the staccato rhythm Jooheon hadn’t been able to find a song for. Jooheon (consciously, now) follows his laugh with the tips of his fingers and has a vague thought of a melody.

 

“I heard you hate sleep.”

 

“Mm Hmm. Hate the guy. Yeaah.”

 

(Jooheon can’t stop laughing.)

 

“Me too.”

 

“Mmm Hmm.”

 

Long pause.

 

“Why?”

 

Minhyuk turns away, and Jooheon thinks maybe this is where the conversation ends, but then Minhyuk actually replies. “I don’t want to die,” he says it too casually, almost like it doesn’t mean anything, but Jooheon feels his heart drop and his body tense up in worry. “I don’t want to die in my sleep.” Oh. _Oh_.

 

“Around this time last year my father and I were watching a movie and… It was interesting, to me, at least, and I kept having to explain really obvious stuff to him, and at some point he stopped asking, and I thought he finally got it. I remember being kind of relieved.”

 

Jooheon doesn’t know what to say, but he feels like Minhyuk doesn’t really want him to say anything. He feels like Minhyuk doesn’t want to be saying anything either, but he continues anyway as though the story demands to be told, “He always fell asleep like that, during movies, and I would laugh and take pictures.” He laughs and Jooheon feels the silence tighten over them even as Minhyuk’s broken chuckle lingers in the air between them.

 

“But that day I didn’t… I don’t know if I knew what was happening but— He didn’t wake up after that.”

 

Jooheon makes a sort of knee-jerk comforting action before immediately drawing back but Minhyuk just waves him off.

 

“It’s really not a big deal, I guess. Sorry for dumping on you, especially after saying your music was hell and sticking my tongue out at you.”

 

“You didn’t say my music was hell.”

 

“Oh I didn’t? I should’ve.”

 

Silence. Laughter. (Jooheon wonders if crescendos could happen out of nowhere, because the composition that plays out in his mind is soft and growing and heartwarming somehow. It’s bittersweet. This one seems to signal a beginning.) He feels lighter almost as immediately as the weight had dawned on him barely a minute ago. Minhyuk’s effect?

 

Even the silence rings out like music when Minhyuk sits on his couch and smiles at him like there’s nothing else he’d rather do, and Jooheon wonders if maybe he’s just been single for too long. He’s not complaining though— Minhyuk seems like someone who’s fun to fall in love with. Maybe he needs that.

 

Then Minhyuk gets up.

 

“I should go now, a little busy with, you know, gaming for the whole night.” He says this with a laugh and then turns to leave. Oh no. Don’t go. Jooheon tries to pluck up the words to call him back, but he can’t think of any reason for Minhyuk to even stay. He can’t seem to find the words to ask him.

 

“Wait, you should stay.”

 

Minhyuk waves him off again and continues walking out, and as he’s slipping his feet back into his sandals (and he’s wearing socks, come on), Jooheon is still trying to find the words.

 

He found them in Korean.

 

“Please don’t go.” He sees Minhyuk pause and then incline his head, then turn back the whole way. He tilts his head and looks into Jooheon’s eyes and Jooheon wonders if maybe he said the wrong thing, but then Minhyuk smiles, “Why do you want me to stay?”

 

English! That was English. Jooheon gapes at him and Minhyuk laughs (again, how can one person laugh so much?). Jooheon realises that he should have realised Minhyuk could speak English earlier since those notes had been in English, but he’s… not that smart. Minhyuk just tuts jokingly when Jooheon fails to reply and turns away again, and he’s almost out the door.

 

“I can’t sleep either!”

 

“I know.”

 

“Can I play you a song?”

 

-

 

Later that night, an hour after Minhyuk came, Jooheon finally makes friends with music again, as his fingers press the keys gently and sweet and he feels good about it for the first time in a long time because he can hear Minhyuk’s hums of approval and laughs and then later into the night, sighs of contentment. He’s cuddled up on the couch with Jooheon’s blanket watching Jooheon make up a melody that just seems to flow, and sometimes he gets excited and later his eyelids begin to droop, and this time he doesn’t fight it.

 

Around the end of the song Jooheon pauses and seems to consider, and then he moves from the piano onto the couch and pulls Minhyuk’s head onto his lap. He sings him the rest of the song in wordless melody and hesitant creation and Minhyuk presses his cheek into his thigh and then his breathing evens and deepens and he sleeps without worry.

 

This is comfortable, Jooheon thinks, as he reaches for the care package Minhyuk had brought him. _Oh, it’s just what I gave to him yesterday. Half eaten. Minhyuk…_ Jooheon laughs to himself, and this time when his hands subconsciously move they’re patting a soft imaginary rhythm onto Minhyuk’s shoulders. It’s so rare to find someone to make so many memories with in the span of just a week and two conversations, and he feels like the oncoming friendship (or more) with Minhyuk will be a wild ride, to say the least. _I’m glad you’re sleeping._ He brushes a few strands of hair out of Minhyuk’s face.

 

Then, his phone lights up in the darkness of the room (Caller ID: Mom). _Oh yeah, she’s coming tomorrow._ He thinks about his fear… that he’d have nothing to show her that would make her smile, that was beautiful and melodic and Korean… And then he seems Minhyuk sniffle and pull the blanket closer around himself, illuminated by the dim light of his vibrating phone, warm and earthy under the blue light, and he finally answers the phone. Yes, he has something to show her.

 

That night, Jooheon finally sleeps without nightmares, carrying the comforting weight of Minhyuk on his body into the dreamworld as well, and he dreams of laughter, and music, and a smile.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope y'all enjoyed!!! leave kudos and comments maybe?
> 
> Remember y'all can find me on twitter at @mongaygay and on tumblr at @buttbebe


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